Evangelism as an Invitation to an Epic Story

Dietrich Bonhoeffer famously opened The Cost of Discipleship with the stark and sobering line:

“When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”

These words strike at the core of Christian faith—not as a call to mere belief, but as an invitation to transformation so complete that it demands everything.

This is not the easy, comfortable Christianity often marketed today. It is not about self-improvement or community engagement alone. It is a call to die to the self, to be grafted onto Christ, and to live in a way that defies the world’s logic.

The Shackleton Myth and the Power of the Epic Call

Sir Ernest Shackleton, the famed explorer, is often credited with placing an ad for his Antarctic expedition, reading:

“Men wanted for hazardous journey. Low wages, bitter cold, long hours of complete darkness. Safe return doubtful. Honour and recognition in event of success.”

While historians debate the authenticity of this advertisement, its mythical status remains powerful because it speaks to something deep within us: the longing for a heroic journey. Shackleton’s expedition—surviving against impossible odds, enduring months stranded on the ice—epitomizes the kind of sacrifice and adventure that people admire (Discerning History 2013).

Why does this resonate so strongly? Because humans crave challenge, risk, and purpose. Our greatest stories, from The Lord of the Rings to Star Wars, follow the classic Hero’s Journey structure, where the protagonist is called to something greater, faces trials, and ultimately emerges transformed.

The Hero’s Journey and the Church’s Great Mistake

In my recent podcast conversation with Tricia Lyons, she pointed out a hard truth: Mainline Protestant churches have often reduced Christianity to little more than a warm embrace. They present a low-bar, easy-access version of faith, assuming that reducing expectations will attract more people. But as Lyons explains:

“I'm just shocked at the track record of failure of the low bar for Christianity because it's a complete perversion of what Christianity is. So I'm glad it hasn’t worked… because it’s not giving people abundant life.”

This should be a wake-up call for church leaders. The best stories, the ones that shape us, are not about comfort. They are about sacrifice, transformation, and overcoming struggle.

She continues:

“I don’t care what anybody says about, ‘Nobody wants a high bar. People won’t join your church if you ask them for money. People won’t join your church if you ask them for time.’ I don’t know what movies and books these people are reading, because billions of people seem very moved when Frodo says, ‘I will take the ring, I will go. I will give my life, I will serve.’”

Faith That Costs Nothing Is Worth Nothing

Andrew Root, in The End of Youth Ministry?, critiques how many parents today see church as an ‘added good’—one more extracurricular activity alongside soccer, music lessons, or academic clubs (Root 2020). This shifts the focus of faith from discipleship and transformation to something that is useful but not essential.

Root warns that when youth ministry is primarily shaped around fun, happiness, and personality development, it inevitably morphs into moralistic therapeutic deism—a watered-down Christianity that emphasizes being nice, feeling good, and self-improvement rather than true discipleship. This is what Lyons calls the “Manner-liners”—people who are polite, kind, and generally well-meaning but lack the depth of a faith that calls them to die to self and follow Christ.

But Christianity was never meant to be just an add-on to an already full life.

Root argues that true Christian formation is not about personal success or happiness but about encountering Christ through love and service to others. He writes:

“Virtues of humility, gratitude, friendship, compassion, and sacrifice don't necessarily produce holiness, but they lead us to love and minister to our neighbor. It’s here that we find holiness, for we encounter the real presence of Jesus” (Root 2020, 215).

This is where the real weight of faith is found—not in shaping individuals into model citizens, but in calling them to die to themselves and be transformed through sacrificial love. The cost of discipleship is high, but it is in giving our lives away that we truly find them (Matthew 16:25).

People Want a Challenge

In our anti-institutional age, churches have removed barriers to participation, assuming this would drive growth. Yet, church attendance has continued to decline (Faith Communities Today 2020). Both seeker-sensitive megachurches and progressive mainline churches have lowered expectations, unintentionally signaling that commitment doesn’t matter.

As Priya Parker argues in The Art of Gathering, the best gatherings aren’t the most open-ended, but those with clear purpose and expectations. When attendance is optional, participation loses meaning (Duckworth and Maughan 2024).

However, there is an important distinction between commitment and exclusion. Raising expectations should never mean creating barriers based on bias—race, gender, nationality, sexuality, or economic status. True Christian community is radically open but also deeply committed.

If something costs nothing, it is worth nothing. Businesses, social clubs, and even the Marines understand this—high commitment creates high value. Churches don’t need to be theologically exclusive, but they must restore the sacredness of commitment.

“A church can be open and inclusive in its theology while also having some amount of barriers and expectations.” (Richmond 2024)

If being part of the church requires nothing, then why should anyone care to belong?

Evangelism as an Invitation to an Epic Story

So what if evangelism wasn’t about making church as easy and effortless as possible?

What if instead, we framed it as the most compelling invitation of all?

“Are you ready to be part of an epic story?”

Christianity should not be marketed as a self-help program or a community group. It is an invitation to die and be reborn. To let go of comfort and be remade. To stand in the face of the world’s darkness and say, I will go. I will take the ring. I will follow.

Because as Tricia Lyons reminds us:

“Christianity is not a moral enterprise. We fail it as a moral enterprise. That’s why it hasn’t worked to invite people to, I don’t know, ‘be better people.’ Christianity makes you a new person, not a good person.”

And that—true transformation—is what people are longing for.

So the question remains:

Are we offering people a faith worth giving their lives for?